


The Vow

by AniaLupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, F/M, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Slow Romance, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniaLupin/pseuds/AniaLupin
Summary: "What's your name?""Ginevra Molly Weasley, isn't that obvious?" I said, getting closer to the reflection of the redhead that definitely wasn't me. Since when do I wear my hair long and curly like that? Or leave countless freckles showing all over my face? And why, as I looked at Draco Malfoy after saying my name, did I simply know there was something so, so very wrong with me?Damn.





	1. Ginevra

It was the clarity that woke me up. Oh Merlin, my head was about to explode! How many drinks did I have last night to have this monstrous migraine? And what day was today? Oh, I hope it's not Monday! Mondays at the Daily Prophet were never good, Mondays with such a hangover should be impossible to live to the end.  
  
I needed to get up, eat breakfast, and apparate to my table.  I searched for my watch in my bedtable, but my hands couldn't find anything remotely familiar, which made me open my eyes and see a light colored bedroom.  Oh shit.  
  
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.  Shit - and I should stop cursing like that, according to my boyfriend.  If I still had a boyfriend after last night, because my now open eyes were telling me I was in a completely strange Muggle house, with clothes that were most certainly not mine.  But there was still hope, right?  Maybe my almost-fiance surprised me last night.  
  
I looked at my right hand, but thankfully there was no ring there.  I would feel like the worst witch in the whole universe if Harry proposed on a night that had apparently been erased from my memory.  But the noise of someone brushing their teeth coming from the bathroom suite made me freeze.  Ginevra, what have you done?  The wizard who still has his back to me didn't look remotely like my boyfriend.  I was so fucked.  Should I call for Harry, or would the wrong name only make things worse?  
  
I so wanted to disapparate from this bed.  
  
The body I saw glancing through the half-open door made me sure I was very, very fucked-up - and there's no way I could keep my mouth from cursing.  I sat on the bed, my feet touching a soft rug as the man turned and started walking towards me.  Harry's skin was darker than mine, and not whiter than any part of my body.  Harry also had black hair.  And it had been a considerable amount of time since Harry had looked at me with such a big smile on his lips - and even so, his eyes were green.  Those grays made me hold my breath.  
  
Merlin, what have I done?  
  
"Gi?"  I opened my mouth, trying to say something - anything!  - one time, two times.  Nothing came out, and I couldn't take my eyes off that body covered by only a navy blue towel wrapped around his waist.  
  
"Oh Merlin, NO!"  It was only when he made mention of taking the towel off that I finally found my voice.  No, no, no, I didn't need to see him as he came into this world, no matter how I probably already saw it last night.  "Where are my clothes?"  I asked, confident that I didn't get here wearing only this shirt.  But no matter how much I searched for any piece that might be mine around the room, I couldn't find a thing.  Everything was so...  in place.  The room seemed too organized — so unlike mine — for a wild night.  And a wild night was definitely what we had.  
  
And then it hit me for the first time:  I had a one night stand with Draco Malfoy.  My head seemed to ache twice more after that constatation.  
  
"I really need to go home, where are my clothes?"  I said as high as my headache allowed, as I searched through the sheets for some piece of cloth that could give me more decency than a semi-open shirt and panties.  Found nothing but a pair of eyes that watched me with confusion, and for a moment they seemed almost hurt.  Merlin's beard, he didn't think last night meant anything, did he?  "Malfoy, come on!  I need to go home! "  
  
There was definitely pain in those gray eyes.  
  
"Gi, you're home."  
  
It was the former Slytherin's seriousness while telling me those words that made me lose it.  I felt my heart almost explode in my chest as I realized the man was not joking.  At least it was no joke for him.  Certainly, he had gone mad.  After so many years away from the magical world, he had completely lost his sanity.  When was the last time anyone had spotted Draco Malfoy, anyway?  The last time I saw him was at the end of the war, right?  The years were undoubtedly cruel to the wizard, who seemed much older than his probable twenty-five.  
  
"What did you do to me last night?"  I asked, trying to keep my cool.  My wand, where did I put it?  I was in a complete muggle bedroom without my fucking wand!  "Look Malfoy, if this is some sick joke of yours to take revenge on anything Harry has done-" And again I could see a sadness in those eyes and the words got stuck in my throat.  For Merlin's sake, I would not cry in front of this man!  "Malfoy, did you drug me?"  
  
But I knew it was not that, and what I saw reflected in the mirror made the first tear fall.  
  
"If you drugged me, or if that's some kind of trick," I wiped my eyes angrily when I felt the second one trickle down my cheek. " You already scared me.  You can stop, ok?  Please, Malfoy-"  
  
"What's the last thing you remember, Gi?"  I remember needing to get to the Daily Prophet's editorial department - but there was no point in me going there today, it was my day off.  Yes, today was my day off.  Every Thursday was my day off work, and today was Thursday.  "What's your name?"  
  
"Ginevra Molly Weasley, isn't that obvious?"  I said, getting closer to the reflection of the redhead that definitely wasn't me.  Since when do I wear my hair long and curly like that?  Or leave countless freckles showing all over my face?  And why, as I looked at Draco Malfoy after saying my name, did I just know there was something so, so very wrong with me?  
  
Because there was nothing wrong with the mirror:  although there were new wrinkles on my face, new scars on my body, that was my hair, those were my freckles, that was my heart-shaped birthmark on my left thigh.  That woman was me.  And the man by my side, who was staring at me looking inconsolable, was either a great actor or was right - and perhaps the second option was the most likely to be true.  Even so, I could not stop myself from saying the next words.  
  
"If anyone finds out that we slept together, I'm finished."  Because waking up next to a death eater in the wizarding world was something that would undoubtedly end on the front page of every gossip magazine.  But me, Harry Potter's girlfriend, waking up right next to Draco Malfoy:  that would be the headline of the century.  
  
"Gi, it's been a while since everyone knows we sleep together."  And my heart, which had been beating furiously before, stopped for a moment.  "At least everyone we know."  
  
Merlin, this was just a dream.  It could only be a fucking dream!  
  
Right?  
  
I would lie down, close my eyes, and when I woke up, I would be in my room, and the mirror reflection would show my hair straight and shoulder-length, and all that damn headache would have gone away.  The new freckles will be gone.  Malfoy will be gone.  And I was about to do it when I realized what I was wearing in my left hand for the first time.  
  
It was the most beautiful engagement ring I'd ever seen.  And the ring beneath it, a wedding band, was the same as the one on Malfoy's finger.  And such facts only shouted one thing:  I had made, at some point in my life, a very, very wrong decision.  
  
"You do not know who I am, do you?"  I shook my head no.  
  
But deep down I knew, even if at the time I could not remember.  It was obvious.  Malfoy didn't need to say the words.  
  
"I'm your husband, Virginia."

Oh fuck.


	2. Orange Street

**Ginevra, now.**

Sitting there in the kitchen, I was a stranger in my own home. At least that was what my  _husband_  told me: our home for the past ten years. Ten years! To remain seated without surrendering to a panic attack, while the wizard made me a cup of chamomile tea, was a gigantic exercise of self-control. Because apparently in that bizarre universe I don't drink coffee anymore. Why on earth had I given up on my blessed caffeine?

"Malfoy, a better explanation than 'Friday night you fell and hit your head' would be lovely." I said, gathering the rest of my already so little calm. I barely noticed the wizard's shoulders tensed: my husband clearly didn't like when I called him by his family name.

Supposing this is not a sadistic joke from someone who absolutely loathes me, and so embracing the idea that yes, Malfoy was my husband and yes, he loved me, the wizard should be as desperate as I am. Ten years.

"You're sure we don't have any coffee in this house?" I asked as I picked up the hot mug, looking in disgust at the pale amber liquid.

"Chamomile is your favourite, Virginia." Only in this wrong dimension. That could be it, right? Somehow, in some bizarre and still unknown way, I might have come across some kind of magical device, and because of a unique alignment of the planets at that instant, this goddammed contact brought me here. But then how, being that hypothesis true, would I go back to my reality?

"Why the hell you keep calling me Virginia, Mal-" This time, catching sight of the gray eyes again so distressed, I decided for his given name. "Draco." And it was strange to let that name escape from my lips. Draco Malfoy, the spoiled Slytherin brat, gone from the magic world since 2001. Draco Malfoy, my husband.

"Because that's your name, Gi." No one called me Gi, it was always Ginny. Gin, to Harry. Oh Merlin, what had happened to Harry? "Do you remember anything from yesterday, Virginia?"

"I needed to get to work." I answered, my head still exploding even with the pills taken minutes ago - muggle pills.

"Yesterday was Saturday, you don't work on Saturdays." I always worked on Saturdays, I nearly screamed. Thursday was my day off! That was wrong, so wrong- "And even if you wanted to work, you don't have to 'get to work'. Your studio is in the back garden." Studio? "Gi, how about we get back to the hospital? It's not far from home, and it'll only take a few minutes by car-"

"Why don't we just apparate to St. Mungus?" I heard a frustrated sigh coming from him, his hands messing his perfect platinum hair. Back in Hogwarts, I could remember that hair always so impeccable in place, every time I saw the boy. I could count on one hand all the times I had interacted with Draco Malfoy. He couldn't say the same: ten goddamn years.

"We didn't go to St. Mungus." Draco told me, slowly, as if I were a child - and I wanted to punch him. "We went to a Muggle hospital, as we always do when needed. But given the current situation, I'm beginning to believe we should give the magical world another try."

"We live as Muggles." It wasn't a question. Draco Malfoy and I - Draco Malfoy, of all the wizards! - were living as Muggles. This was so, so wrong. "What happened that night, Draco?"

* * *

**Draco, before.**

Our life together was good, really. Despite the Muggle way of living adopted by us for ten years already, our life was really good. Who would have thought that one day the youngest Malfoy would say such thing - my father must roll over in his grave every time I thought about how comfortable it was living away from all the magic bullshit. His only son, who lived his whole life in a gigantic mansion and had dozens of house elves, now preferred this simple brick house on a narrow street in the middle of London's suburbs with a discreet façade and windows hidden by plants and more plants. A lot of plants, because Red always loved all that green.

Living in a muggle house, at muggle's Orange street and the best is yet to come: married to one of the greatest muggle-lovers the wizarding world has ever known, Ginevra Molly Weasley, now Virginia Malfoy. Ginny, for our closest friends. Gi, just for me.

"We're going to be late, Gi!" I screamed from the kitchen, filling my cup with more green tea: her five minutes had turned fifteen as usual. It was always like this. I didn't exactly care about her lack of punctuality, but Zabini, who had been waiting for us for more than an hour in his house, certainly did not share the same opinion. It wasn't just apparating anymore, at least not for us both.

"I'm almost done, I swear!" I heard her muffled voice coming from our room and I smiled as I thought of our routine.

Routine. How many years had passed, since we found ourselves in such a- ...Well, there was not a word to it, unexpected barely began to cover the way we met. Almost eleven years, I didn't even felt them go by. Completely clichéd, Draco Malfoy in love, the last thing any of my friends thought someday could happen. I myself had doubted it, and many times was found pondering all that in the beginning. Why was all that red freely and willingly spread out in my bed? I still don't have a good answer. Isn't love, after all, a mystery? Red loved me, and I had no idea why.

Draco Malfoy, in love and so, so cliché.

The four-bedroom house on Orange Street bought after a year living in London had been the ideal choice. I was silent, the neighbourhood was quiet and it was close to our petite family - far, far away from any entrance to the Ministry of Magic. And there was no sign of a registered fireplace, our own being wonderfully muggle-like: electric.

"Are you ready?" One more smile when my eyes stopped at Virginia. It was unbearably cold outside, and my redhead was all covered in layers and layers of clothing. And yet, she shone as always. With her red hair up in a messy bun, her almond eyes stood up and contrasted with the white skin each year more covered with freckles. How the years went by and she got more and more beautiful was still a mystery to me.

"Ages ago." I placed my now empty cup in the sink and grabbed her by the waist, giving my wife a quick kiss as we headed toward the door. "If we don't hurry, Blaise is going to murder us, you know." A white furry spot stopped on my foot, passing between her and my legs.

"Pan, behave while your humans are away!" she said to the cat before closing the door, getting back a meow.

I was getting our car out of the garage when I remembered what we had forgotten on the living room table.

"Goddamit." I said, stopping the car and trying to contain my laughter - we were bound to be late from the start. Virginia looked at me and instantly understood what was not in my pockets. I was about to say I'll get it when I saw Red already heading back to the entrance, keys in hand.

"And you still have the audacity to blame me for being late!"

I shook my head, leaning against the car seat as I took the phone from my pocket. There was a message from Blaise, of course:  _ **Where are you? Meet us at the theatre's entrance. We're taking a cab**_. This practically gave us almost half an hour's advantage, and I breathe in relief realizing we'll make it in time. We could even think about using that half hour for other things - if only we could take just half an hour for that.

"Gi, the tickets are on the kitchen table!" I yelled, watching from the open door our cat obediently looking out without giving any sign of wanting to escape.

And then it all happened too quickly.

There was a loud noise. A familiar cry startling the cat who vanished from my sight. In one second I stayed frozen in the car seat, and in the next I was racing through the door, my heart beating faster than in a long time. For a minute my brain tried to deceive me: Virginia dropped something, broke something, it was one of her bad ideas of a joke. But it wasn't.

She was lying in front of the stairs, unconscious, the two tickets still in her hand, which stretched into a position that seemed too uncomfortable. And there was blood, a lot more than I expected - and wanted - to see.

"Fuck," I picked her up before thinking I could hurt her even more by doing so. Damn. "Gi, talk to me." Nothing. "Come on babe, wake up." At least she was breathing. Even with the blood dripping from the cut on her head she still breathed, and that was good, right? It had to be.

Slamming the door behind us, I ran back to the car, laying her down in the back seat before flying the black sedan to the nearest hospital.

* * *

**Ginevra, now.**

I heard it all in silence: it was a very, very good story. It was one perhaps too good to be invented: that undoubtedly must be the story of the woman who lived with him, those should be the events of her Friday's night. But by all Gods, I was  _not_  that woman.

"Eleven years?"

"Completed the last Saturday." Eleven years.

"You call me Red." I pointed the most trivial detail, maybe too stunned by all the information to choose anything more significant. At least it was finally explained the reason my head throbbed so much. The problem was that the explanation made it hurt even more. "And then you took me to a Muggle hospital?"

* * *

**Draco, before.**

"My wife fell off the stairs!"

It had been a while since the last time we entered a hospital in such a hurry: exactly two years, three months, and twenty-five days. In seconds one of the residents was running toward us with a stretcher, and I started to hear all the procedure question while laying Virginia down as carefully as I could.

"Name and age."

"Virginia, thirty-four."

"Any health condition, in use of any medication, is she pregnant?"

"No, nothing." At least I thought not, for that last question. As we passed another door, one of the nurses stopped me as Virginia disappeared into a room.

"The doctors will do a CT scan and then they'll come back and talk to you, okay?"

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Seconds after I felt something vibrating on my pocket: three missed calls. Shit, I forgot about Zabini and that stupid play. I hit redial and the call was picked almost automatically.

"Mate, we've been standing outside for half an hour-"

"I'm at the hospital, Blaise." I cut him, finally letting myself collapse in the nearest chair. "Virginia fell off the stairs, hit her head. She's unconscious and now the doctors are running some exams I think-"

"We'll be there in a minute."

"No need." I could hear a complaint on the other end of the line. "Seriously, enjoy the play for us."

"How can you think we'll enjoy anything-"

"I'll keep you informed, Blaise. Tell your husband it's nothing serious, okay?" The last thing I needed was to have those two here now - and no, Blaise was never the problem. But the other man would end with all sanity that was left in me. "If things get ugly, you'll be the first to know, I promise. You're our family, after all."

"I'll call as soon as the play is over. And if you're still there, by Merlin, you'll give me that address."

* * *

**Ginevra, now.**

Oh no.

No no no no no no! And yes, the wizard who was telling me about my last day instantly noticed my mood change: my hand went automatically to my belly, trying to find any bump, anything unusual, any sign that would confirm my fear. Oh Merlin, he was really serious.

"We are," But I found nothing - yet. "Trying?" My belly was as straight as ever, but I definitely wasn't sure about my breasts. Eleven years, right? They could have just grown, couldn't they? That kind of stuff could happen, and you don't necessarily have to be expecting.

"You're not pregnant, Virginia." Those words didn't seem sincere, his gray eyes once again looking at me with a certain conflict: was he sad I wasn't? We were apparently trying, which was a very discreet way of saying I was fucking Draco Malfoy. "They tested you. And I wouldn't have given you those pills if you were." I took a deep breath: ok, I could believe in him.

"And when you say Blaise," Only one person with that name came to mind. "You mean Blaise, your Slytherin friend? Blaise Zabini? He's one of our closest friends?" The confirmation came with a half smile from Malfoy. Blaise Zabini and whoever his partner was were our family. "Merlin, I don't know if I want to hear the rest."

* * *

**Draco, before.**

The clock hanging on the white wall marked four-thirty in the morning. It has been almost two days since she was admitted to the hospital. Almost two days since I had last seen her almond eyes open. Sitting in the armchair near the bed, I felt my eyes heavy but the last thing I could do was sleep, the coffee cup beside me doing his work and leaving me minimally awake.

I shouldn't have been drinking our old addiction, and in an attempt to get rid of the evidence I went down the hall to throw away the empty plastic cup. Her right wrist was sprained and she had seven stitches on her head, besides all the already purple bruises on her arms, back and legs. But everything else seemed okay. There wasn't any swelling in her brain, no major injury, so physically there was nothing that could be keeping her from waking up. She could be worn out, the doctor said, and at that moment I could curse the life out of him.

_Do you two lead a very busy lifestyle?_  We most certainly did. She surely did.

I couldn't care less about Virginia spending the weekend sleeping, for I could certainly handle all the work. I just didn't want her sleeping in a hospital bed. So yes, when I went back to the room and saw the eyes that I had hoped to see in the last hours open and searching for me, I was really fucking relieved.

"You scared the shit out of me, Red." I cursed, moving toward the bed as I ran my hands through my hair. In less than a second she was in my arms as I ran my free hand over my eyes to wipe away the annoying tears that I could no longer hold. "Damn." I needed to curse while it was just the two of us.

"And that's my husband's sweet welcome to his wife." I heard her say in a slightly groggy voice, watching her face frown as she tried to sit up. "How much did I sleep?"

"It's already Sunday, Gi. You slept the entire Saturday." And I note the surprise on the redhead's face. "Never, never do this to me again." I pleaded, leaning my forehead against hers for a second. "You can't scare us like that anymore. I don't know what I'd do without you, Red."

"You haven't slept at all, have you?" It was her answer, as I felt one of her hands touch the bags under my eyes - which should be as huge as they used to be back in my early twenties. "It's okay, Draco, I'm fine." A kiss, much shorter than I needed. "Sorry to ruin our anniversary."

"You didn't ruin anything, Red." I didn't even remember the date, as I forgot to cancel the reservation I made at our favourite restaurant. "We always have next year to celebrate." It was true.

"We need to call Luna." she said, always so worried, always thinking about everything.

"We don't need to think about it until Monday, love." I knew the wife I had very well. " I already called and explained the situation, everything is okay. Try not to worry too much, okay? We'll be there tomorrow night." I finished, no longer able to hide a yawn.

"What time is it?"

"Four-forty," I said, considering washing my face to see if the water would cause more effect than all the caffeine. "They probably will want you on observation for at least a couple more hours before they release you."

"Come here." Virginia pulled me, making me lay by her side. Would I hear something about the coffee I drank? She could certainly tell by the bitter taste in my mouth. There was no way she wasn't recognizing it, her lips on mine again. Within seconds she would realize and know that coffee wasn't the only thing I had taken. The taste was still so strong in my mouth I could smell it.

But complain about our old habits was the last thing Red did.

* * *

**Ginevra, now.**

"So that's the story, Gi. You hit your head. You woke up yesterday, you were released after lunch, and then we came home."

There was one thing I remembered very clearly: Draco Malfoy was a lousy actor. A terrible one, anybody who remembered the hippogriff case would say that. And I did not believe his performance could have improved over the years: good actors are not made, but born actors. And the man who described me in detail about my last two days was a lousy, horrible, dreadful actor, and I believed every word he said to me because even the damn commas seemed to tell the truth. Every look showed sincerity. I was absolutely certain of the love the wizard had for me, a love not even Harry had ever made me feel certain about.

And I could not remember not even a moment with, apparently, the love of my life.

"This is not a joke." He shook his head. This is not a joke, and I'm married to one of the worst wizards I've ever met.

I saw from the corner of my eye the cat named Panther climbing into the sink, meowing suspiciously into the air. Draco hesitated for a moment, but eventually lifted up and turned on the faucet — from where the cat began to lick the trickle of flowing water — before going to kneel beside my chair. Taking my hands off his was automatic, and again, I felt a sting in my chest as I noted his sad eyes.

"This is not a joke, Virginia."

I would not freak out.

"I think we need to go back to the hospital."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody!   
> First, thanks for reading! This is a fic of mine I decided to translate so I can practice a little my 'inglês'. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any grammar/spelling mistake. And if I get good feedback, I will keep posting here ;)


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